Omicron
by Parker Fallon
Summary: Insane. Female. Destructive. Three clone ARC troopers were created for the Kaminoans use. But when they are unleashed at the Battle of Geonosis, they see that there is something else for them besides the life that is forced upon them.
1. Omicron

**Hello, readers! This tale has been at the back of my mind for a long, long time, and after I watched the Assassins Creed: Unity, it came to the forefront of my brain and I had to write it down. I wanted to see how a clone trained by Dred Priest or Mij Gilamar would turn out, and how a female clone could exist, and lastly, how an insane/psychopathic clone would act. So, please read and review!  
**

**K'oyacyi! **

**Parker**

* * *

**Tipoca City, Kamino, **

**Eight years before the Battle of Geonosis **

"The gene manipulation process is not something to toy with, Ko Sai."

The gracious, long-necked Heads Scientist Ko Sai stood before Lama Su, a datapad in her long-fingered hands, swaying slightly.

"I am aware of that, Prime Minister," Ko Sai replied, her voice soft and gentle. "But we have... thousands of clone embryos; we can spare three. I would like to try this experiment."

"Would Fett approve of this... Project Omicron?"

"Jango Fett would not need to know of it. They would be secret. We could deploy them for secret operations and... they could be controlled by us. Not the Republic."

"We have the Null ARCS for black operation missions. But what you say is true. We could use some clone troops for our... own purposes."

"Then I have your permission to begin the changes in the genes?" Ko Sai's normally expressionless voice had the unusual hint of excitement.

"Very well. I'd like one of our Mandalorian training sergeants for this batch. Not Master Skirata, though. I want them being controlled by us. Not him," Lama Su instructed. "Perhaps Gilamar? Tay'haai?"

Ko Sai tilted her head, names running through her mind.

"I have an idea."

"Who, Ko Sai?"

"Dred Priest."


	2. Sisters

**Tipoca City, Kamino **

**Omicron Training Area**

**Five years before the Battle of Geonosis **

"Punch her, you _chakaar_! Punch her till you slam the _gett'se_ out of her!"

Sicko grinned wildly as sergeant Priest goaded him on. He didn't want to punch his sister, no sir, but he always smiled. Always wildly. The sergeant said it had something to do with his growth. He was supposed to have been dead. But someone, one of the long-necks with blue eyes, had stepped in and saved him. His sisters, Net'ra and Cas, they were supposed to be alive, and they were. He wasn't supposed to live. But he didn't give a lump of bantha _osik_ about that. He was a... psychopath? Was that word? Sicko didn't really know, and he didn't really care. All he cared about right now was punching his sister as hard as he could without hurting her.

Sicko threw a less-than-hard swing at Cas, aiming for her exposed right arm.

"No!" the sergeant's annoyed yell came from a balcony way, way above them, in a very high wall. He and his sisters were in a large, circular arena. It was dull gray; everything was dull and gray on Kamino, and there was a huge viewport that they could use to watch the rain and the ocean and the rest of the cities. It always fascinated him, water and rain. It was always pouring into those thunderous waters, and aiwahs could go in and out of the seas. Why couldn't he? "Aim for her head, you idiot! You want to kill her, not make her mad!"

Sicko bit back a response. Once, when he was three – six biologi- he couldn't pronounce that dumb word – he had told sergeant Priest that he didn't _want_ to kill his sisters. The Mandalorian had broken his jaw and caused some internal bleeding. Priest had left him to bleed away, but another Mandalorian, a doctor, Mij, had come to the rescue. Sicko didn't know how Mij had found him, because the Kaminoans and Priest had told him that they were _isolated_, meaning that they were cut off from everyone else in the whole world. But he was glad, because otherwise, he wouldn't be alive.

Cas let out a little grunt as she kicked out at his legs. Sicko jumped back and then raised his fist to hit her face. He swung, but Cas ducked, making him fall forward. She kicked upwards right into his gut.

"Egh!" Sicko cried, then shut his mouth. Cas loved to kick, and he and Net'ra were used to it, but this hurt. And Priest punished anyone who showed that they were in pain. He would be in trouble.

"Sorry!" Cas gasped, regaining her footing and rushing to him. She didn't seem to have an qualms about fighting her siblings, but she wasn't so scared of Master Priest. Except when he got mad. Then she was very frightened. Net'ra, though, was fearless. She had once slapped him.

"You _hut'uun'la_ clones!" Priest roared, bringing both their attention to the balcony. _Hut'uun'la_. Cowardly. Sergeant Priest was a Mandalorian, so he used his language a lot. Mostly to insult them.

_I'll get him back one day, _Sicko thought, and his grin came back to his face. _I've got half of my insult ready. _He was preparing a very, very long _Mando'a_ insult for his sergeant. He would speak it the day that he was bog enough to fight Priest. Then, he would kill the man. He knew that he wanted to.

Priest whirled around and stomped away from the rail of the balcony. Sicko glanced at his sister. Cas's usually ruddy complexion had deserted her, leaving her ashen white.

_She's scared. _Sicko's grin grew wider. He was scared too.

The double-door at one end of the arena hissed open to reveal a very, very angry looking sergeant Priest.

"What part of _you are trying to kill her_ do you not understand!" the Mandalorian bellowed. Sicko stood at attention; Cas did as well. "Stop patronizing her and fight back! And you, Omicron Oh-Three, why did you stop to _check if he was okay_?"

Omicron-03. That was their unit number. The three of them were Project Omicron, an experiment by the Kaminoans to see how a female clone would work. Net'ra was 01, and Sicko was 02. He was the failed one, the one that they couldn't change the whatever-it-was inside of them when they were still in their first stages of development to make him a girl. Sicko was glad, though. He _liked_ being male.

"Because I may have injured him, sir!" Cas said, trying to make her higher voice sound deeper and dignified.

"That's the point, _di'kut_," Priest snarled at them, then raised his hand, not words, no nothing, and just slapped her.

Sicko's eyes widened as Cas was sprawled to the ground, bleeding at the lip and biting her fist to keep herself from crying.

That set him off.

With an inhuman scream of anger, Sicko jumped at Priest. Nobody harmed his sister. Priest had called them all sorts of nasty names, but he was the only one that was targeted for violence. No one would every hurt Cas like that, never ever.

Sicko balled his fists and rammed the sergeant in the chest, sending him backwards. Sicko didn't stop. He punched his scarred face, then his neck...

All Sicko could see was a reddish haze, not even Priest. He had to get back, he had to kill him -

The five/ten-year old found himself flung against the viewport wall, blood everywhere on his red fatigues. He was breathing hard, his grin gone. But his eyes were still crazed. They darted around the arena, looking, searching for the object of his hate. But Priest was no where in the room. He was alone, with the limp form of Cas on the floor. Unevenly and groggily, Sicko stood shakily and limped over to his sister.

Cas was breathing hard, her short dark hair pooled around her head, her chocolate brown eyes closed. Blood was trickling like a small stream from her lip. But she was alive, and probably in a better state than he was.

Sicko shook her shoulder. "Cas, get up! Come on, _ner'vod_, get up!" There was a moment of agonizing silence before Cas let out a groan.

"_Si'ika_," she mumbled, wincing. Sicko wrapped his arms around her to prop her up. It took a while, and when she finally was sitting up, she was leaning on his shoulder for support. "Priest, he..." she groaned once more, and Sicko held her closer. This was his sister; he'd definitely kill the sarge for this one. "Kicked me. In the stomach." Cas was choking out the words now. Sicko grimaced. Dred Priest always wore heavy _beskar_ boots.

"I'll find someone. We'll get Net'ra, and she'll find Mij. She's friends with him," he said soothingly.

Yes, he wouldn't let anyone lay a finger on Cas, as long as he was around. He would make sure of that.


End file.
